


With Open Arms I Could Keep You Close - Don't Stay For Me.

by BazzyBelle



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 06:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazzyBelle/pseuds/BazzyBelle
Summary: During their first night in America, Simon and Baz struggle with wanting to be close to each other. As night turns into morning, they are still contemplating their feelings from the night before and are wondering what they should do about them. (IF they even want to do anything about them).This takes place after Chapter 17 and before Chapter 19 of Wayward Son. Spoilers for Wayward Son if you have not read the book yet.





	With Open Arms I Could Keep You Close - Don't Stay For Me.

**Author's Note:**

> Ummm. Hi. So, I haven’t written a fic in a VERY long time. I used to write A LOT, but life happened and I haven't written in like, 8 years.
> 
> Forgive me if my writing is atrocious, I am a bit out of practice. I just finished reading “Wayward Son”, and I was so full of all these feelings and emotions, I just needed to get something out. So, I guess that’s what this is. I don’t know if I’ll write another story. I want to, but I don’t want to push/force creativity after losing it for 8 years.
> 
> Characters all belong to Rainbow Rowell. I own nothing in this story. 
> 
> The lyrics from Baz’s POV are from the song “Róróró” by Of Monsters and Men. The lyrics from Simon’s POV are from the song “Don’t Stay” from X Ambassadors.

**BAZ**

  
_I am up with the sunrise. I’m tired and I think I want to go home. So let’s go and get started. Do you hear me calling, crying out? When I run up to the house, catch me if you think you can._

  
The motel room fills with a soft light as morning settles in. I sigh and despite my muscles protesting, my chest aching, I force myself to get up.

  
The motel bed was awfully uncomfortable, I suppose I should add that to the list of things I hate about America. I look over to Bunce, who is still sleeping soundly. We do need to get back on the road soon, but I decide to let her sleep. She could use a few more minutes of rest.

  
It feels as if we’ve been on this road trip for weeks, though it’s only been a day or so. A day, and this vacation has already taken its toll on me. It really is not surprising given Britain’s problematic past with America. Even the American air has issues with us Brits.

  
I wish I were back home, away from the American heat, and the American roads, and the cheap American motel bed.

I wish I was away from this uncertainty…

  
I look to Simon, still asleep on the couch. His wings stretching out and over the edge of the couch. I have to wonder if he was as uncomfortable sleeping on the couch as I was sleeping on the bed.

I wish he would have come to bed with me…

I wish I would have insisted…

I would not have minded his wings. Not at all.

I think back to last night… Why didn’t I say anything to him?

Why was he pretending to be asleep?

It wasn’t the first time that Simon has tried to pretend that he was asleep. You’d think he’d realize that after living in the same room as him for 8 years that I’d know how his sleeping breaths sound like.

They’re slower… More peaceful. Maybe a hitch here and there that comes with dreams. Except, within the last year, I’ve noticed that Simon’s breathing has gone from his typical calm breaths to a more fast-paced, almost frantic breathing. The few nights that we have spent together in the last few weeks, (he has not wanted me to stay over as often, a request that pains me to grant, but I do. I do, because I love him, and if he needs time, my advantage being Immortal means I’ve got plenty of it) have been full of Simon having near panic attacks in his sleep. I have had to wake him on occasion, which would always start an argument.

_“Bloody Hell Baz! I was sleeping!”_

_“You were having a terror again, Snow! Was it The Mage again? Ebb?”_

_“I don’t want to talk about it.”_

_“Maybe we should. I can’t remember a time where you weren’t thrashing about, unable to breathe. It is starting to concern me.”_

_“If I am such a bother to you, maybe you should spend more time in your own bed!”_

_“That’s not what I meant, and you bloody well know it, Snow!”_

_“Let it go, Baz…”_

_“Has it ever occurred to you that I might be able to help you?” _

_“Let it go, Baz!”_

_“You think I haven’t gone through this as well? After being taken by fucking numpties?!”_

_“Let it GO, BAZ!”_

_“Let me help you, Simon!”_

_ **“LET IT GO, BAZ!”** _

He had tried to throw magic the last time. I could tell from the way he was shouting. I was not sure what he had meant to do, but it was clear to me that he did not want me there. So, I got up and walked out of the room. I had pushed him too far; I would not make that mistake again.

I slept on the couch for the remainder of the night and slipped out before anyone woke up.

He’d started to pretend to be asleep after that incident. He didn’t want to get into another row with me over his sleeping habits, and I’ve let it go. I have not brought it up since, and besides, after that, we were spending less time sleeping together, so it didn’t matter anyway.

My thoughts are pulled back to the present where I can see Simon starting to stir. I gather some necessities and go into the bathroom to change, but not before lightly touching the curls on his head.

* * *

**SIMON**

_Lately I've been thinking you've seen the worst and you've seen it in me_   
_I gave you every reason, every reason to get up and leave. I know that there's times that you get so tired, and you know I want you to stay._

I did not get much sleep last night. Between Penny’s crying, the uncomfortable couch…

Longing for Baz…

I remember feeling my chest ache as I thought about him, but Baz wasn’t going anywhere. He gave me a bloody good night kiss last night. In fact, it was the most alive I have felt in months. Cedar and bergamot lingered in the air as he went back into bed. I don’t know how much more I can push him away before he finally decides that he’s had enough.

Maybe he never will, fool that he is…

I should have followed him. I should have gotten into bed with him and wrapped my wings around his body (the excuse I gave last night was rubbish, and we both knew it. My wings unfurling never bothered him before). I wanted to tell him that I still wanted him. That I still needed him. I wanted to tell him that I missed him. A part of me also wanted to tell him that we were alright. That no matter what, we would be alright.

But I couldn’t lie to Baz. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that we were alright, when I did not believe it myself. We were not alright, and I did not believe we could ever be alright. We were a dying flame, struggling to keep itself alive. Maybe we burned too quickly. Yes, that makes sense. We burned too quickly, and now, there’s nothing left, and as much as I want to bring it back, I don’t know how.

Baz deserves more that that. Baz deserves better.

I should have broken up with him when I had the chance. Seeing him in pain, longing to comfort him and hold him, it’s too much for me. Baz should not have come on this trip with us. He should have stayed home He should have tried to find someone who knew how to love him in the way that he deserved.

That would never be me…

I am disgusted with myself. I am selfishly keeping him hanging on when I should be letting him go. I am holding onto him because even though I want him to leave, the very thought of him leaving destroys me.

I was thinking about that last night, as I was watching Baz sleep, and regretting not grabbing him and holding him close. I could say that I did not want to make things awkward and hurtful for Penny, but that would have been another lie, this time to myself.

So instead, I stayed on the couch, holding onto the smell of cedar and bergamot and listening to Penny cry, until she cried herself to sleep.

I wake up slowly and I feel a light touch on my head. I cannot stop myself from smiling, as the calm of the morning keeps my defenses down. 

Or maybe that’s just because it’s Baz.

I open my eyes and stretch my wings. I climb out from the couch. I can hear Baz in the bathroom and I see Penny still asleep on her bed. I cannot imagine she slept well either.

I wonder if that will be Baz once I decide to finally put us out of our misery. I wonder if he’ll be as destroyed as I will be once this is done. I also wonder if he’ll see it as a relief. He’ll no longer have to play baby-sitter to my hopeless self. I see him, in all his glamour, driving like a movie star in the South of France, charming the ever living day lights out of an unsuspecting Frenchman. While I waste away. 

My thoughts are interrupted by the bathroom door opening. Baz looks a little surprised to see me awake.

“Snow…” He says, all too gently. Baz, you are killing me.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Dreadfully… I’d drain a merwolf for a firm bed. Honestly.” He is trying to make a joke and I offer a half-smile to satisfy him.

I start to stare at him. Baz does not look good. I can see his nose is charred and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like death, and I did this to him.  
Baz sits down on the couch next to me. I reach up and touch the dark circles under his eyes. My hand brushes some of the hair from his face. I do love how his hair looks after he styles it. Soft, wavy, and parted to side, which really brings out his widow’s peak. I trace my fingers over the sharp edges of his face, stopping right at the edge of his lips.

“Baz?”

“Snow?” He is leaning towards me. My heart quickens.

“You should drink something.”

I am a coward

* * *

**BAZ**

_Oh what a shame, because I know, with open arms then I could hold it all. Oh what a shame that I row to the edges so that I can fall off. No one’s to blame, but I know with open arms that I could keep you close. Oh what a shame that I row to the edges so that I can fall off._

I’ve managed to catch a few squirrels outside. There were a few of them fighting over the meager scraps on the floor. I suppose the litter on the floor is a benefit to me. It allows me to catch the animals that scramble to clean up the messes. I quickly snap their necks and walk towards a ditch on the side of road. I don’t think anyone saw me. It is still far too early for any of the patrons to be awake, and the staff is inside getting the breakfast ready.

I crouch on the edge of the ditch and quickly drain the squirrels and toss them into the ditch. I wish I could be more discrete, but for now, this will have to do. However, to ensure that none too-curious Normals are able to sneak up on me, I cast a few _**“Nothing to see here!”**_ to erase my track.

I am just finishing up the last squirrel, when I hear someone behind me. I quickly toss the squirrel and turn around, readying to either explain myself or fight.

Neither is necessary, because Simon is standing right behind me.

“Bloody hell, Snow! You know I don’t like you to see me feed!”

Simon sighs and shrugs sadly. I can see that he has freshened up and has changed his clothes. White t-shirt and rolled up jeans. He is beautiful.

He also has a blanket over his shoulders.

“I know… I’m sorry… But…”, Simon lifts the blanket and I can see his wings and tail poking out. I guess Bunce is still sleeping. I offer a small smile at him. I pull my wand out of my pocket, and I cast _**“Without a trace”**_ as well as a **_“Nothing to see here!”_**. Simon’s wings disappear. He ties his tail around his waist.

We walk back to the motel room. I cannot help but stare at him as we walk. Although the funk that Simon has been in has done a number on him, he is still beautiful. In fact, with the sun hitting him, his skin looks almost a light golden. His moles and freckles peak out. His curls, while they looked dull before, have started to take on a soft glow as well.

It takes every effort for me to not grab him and kiss him then and there.

We reach the motel room and gather our things. Bunce is still asleep on her bed. I am starting to grow concerned. I nudge Simon and nod towards her.

“Should we wake her?”

“I don’t think she wants to be woken up. I wouldn’t want to be,” Simon says as he walks out of the door. I frown and I cannot help but wonder what he meant by that. I grab my belongings and follow Simon out the door.

I slam the boot of the car shut and I see Simon sitting on the hood of the car. I sit down on the hood next to him. I want to grab his hand and rub my thumb over his knuckles. I want him to lean on me. I want to take his pain from him. I can handle it. I have had a life full of pain and hopelessness, I can shoulder some more. I would give my life if I could see Simon smiling at me again. Or not even at me per se but smiling at anything.

I look at him for a little and then I do something that I have told myself I would not do. I reached up and move some of his curls.

Simon flinches and I can feel my heart breaking. I look away and take a deep a breath. Best to move forward. Simon pulls his hands away from me and places them on his lap. I turn back to him.

“So, what do you reckon we do?”

“About what?”

About us for one. About the fact that you have shown more life in the one day we’ve been in America, than you have in the last 6 months. About the fact that we have no plan on what we’re even doing on this vacation.

“Well I suppose you’re right. We can’t wake up Bunce until she’s ready,”. I stop myself. I want to say until she is ready to face the day with the heaviness hanging over her heart, but I hold back. “So what should we do in the meantime?”

Simon jumps off of the hood of the car. He looks a little excited, which I am not upset about. Anything that puts life back into Simon Snow is perfectly fine.

“They have a _continental_ breakfast!”

I frown. “Continental? Snow I highly doubt a place like this serves French cuisine. I imagine under-cooked meat and rotten fruit.” I try to not grimace as I talk to him. My arms are crossed over my arms. He cannot be serious right now. I can smell the burnt bacon from here, I can only imagine what other atrocities await us inside.

Simon is rolling his eyes at me and shaking his head. He is clearly not having any of this. He reaches for my hands and pulls me off of the hood. Because I am starved of his attention and affection, I let him lead me away from the car. Simon is pulling me towards the entrance of the dining section of the motel. I cannot imagine there being anything edible in this establishment, but I suppose eating a terrible breakfast is not an awful way to waste time.

And it _is_ making Simon happy, so can it really be so dreadful?

* * *

**SIMON**

_But don't stay for me. Don't stay for me. If you got to leave, do what you need. But don't stay for me. _

The breakfast is dreadful. It is such a shame to, because I was _so_ looking forward to it. I have not had a proper French breakfast in such a long time. Baz had taken me out to a small breakfast place back in London, as a romantic breakfast date. It offered so many rich French pastries. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

That seems like another lifetime ago.

I suppose I got excited about the continental breakfast because I thought back to that date. I think I was hoping to recreate a time where we were happy. Maybe it would help me?

I don’t know.

We walked inside the dining hall (to be honest, it looked like a dingy conference room. I had seen a few of them at some of the homes back in the UK. The type of room where you would be brought into in order to be given good, or really bad news), and my excitement immediately turned to disappointment. The bacon was burnt to a crisp, the fruit looked like it had started to rot while on the table. There were no good-looking pastries, they all looked like they were purchased from the frozen section of a grocer’s, or worse… the convenience store. And worst of all… No scones.

Baz is chuckling next to me… The tosser. I angrily stalk away from him and grab a plate. May as well try to eat something! Baz follows me, still chuckling.

“Well what did you expect Snow? That we’d eat like King Louis the Fourteenth? No… I think this magnificent spread is quite spot on for a place called the ‘SLEEP E-Z MOTEL’”. He turns away and heads to find a place to sit down.

“They could at least have SOME scones!” I put a few pieces of bacon on my plate, as well a couple of pieces of toast. There is some strawberry jam, so I add that as well. I completely pass over the pastries, as I can see that some are not fully unfrozen. I manage to find some pieces of fruit that aren’t rotten and place them on my plate. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the selection of tea. It’s minuscule, but it’ll do for now. I grab a couple of cups of hot water and some “English Breakfast” tea. I head to a table, where Baz is already sitting. I offer him a cup and some tea. He cocks his eyebrow at me and tilts his head. His long fingers grasp the cup and he starts to steep his tea. He takes a sip and chokes.

“Ugh. They call this tea? May as well steep the leaves on the ground. How does the spread look, Snow?”

“Fit for a King.” I get settled in, sitting in front of him, I am not oblivious to the few stares that we get. I have to wonder if my wings are showing, but no, Baz spelled them away. It must be something else. I put my head down and start to eat my food slowly. Baz reaches for my hand, but I pull it away, and place it on my lap. Baz acts as if nothing happened, but I know he’s hurting. I don’t understand how comfortable and confident he is sometimes. I wish I could be like that. I wish I could hold his hand and not care. I wish I could kiss him while flipping the bird to whomever stares at us in disapproval. But as established, I am a coward.

A coward, a tosser, a loser….

“We should attempt to repair the car. If I have to ride without shelter again, I may burst in flames.”

“Please don’t joke about your flammability, Baz.” It bothers me to imagine Baz bursting into flames. I quietly eat my food, but it really is atrocious. The bread is dry, the jam is incredibly sweet, and the bacon is so greasy. Did they inject it with oil? I imagine Gordon Ramsey yelling in disgust.

_This bacon is so oily, the US wants to invade the plate!_

At least the fruit isn’t a complete loss. I finish up my meal and stick a banana in my back pocket. I can already tell that I’m going to need to eat later. I wipe my hands and get up.

“Right then. Now that I am wholly unsatisfied. Let’s see to the car, yeah?”

* * *

**BAZ**

_Do you want it? Do you want it to be true? But I'm not, no I'm not ready for this (oh what a shame)_   
_Do you need it? Do you need it to be true? But I'm not, no I'm not ready for this._

Nothing Is working. I have tried spell after spell and NOTHING is working. The blasted car top is staying stuck! It will not move a budge.

“Have you tried _**‘Ship shape?’**_” Simon asks from the front of the car.

“I’ve tried every bloody spell I can think of. It will not budge.” I sigh and decide to give up. Maybe Bunce can help with this. Hopefully when she’s in better spirits. I wonder if she is still sleeping. They have started to clean up the rooms. We need to be check out in a few minutes.

“I suppose Bunce can fix this.” I open the boot of the car and pull out some sunscreen lotion. If I have to endure another day of the blaring sun, I may as well protect myself. I also pull out a pair of wide sunglasses, wrapped up in my mother’s light blue scarf. I feel the fabric and smile to myself. I think of her and I wonder if she’d be proud of me. I hope so. Thinking of my mother helps sometimes. On days when I'm feeling especially low. I walk to the front of the car as Simon is hopping out of it. I lean on the car door. 

“What are you smiling about?”, Simon askes me. His eyes are sparkling and he offers me a quizzical smile. I cannot help but smile back at him. As much as he can hurt me and push me away, I am a fool for him and all it takes is a smile, and a soft look to make me forget all the pain.

“I have found a way to protect my hair for the next leg of our journey.” I start to wrap my hair in the scarf when Penelope joins us. I am thankful to see her. My stomach sinks for she still looks like she was struck with Ghoul-Fever, with the bags under her eyes and the messy hair. She also carries herself with no sense of purpose.

She looks like Simon has in the last months, and how I’m feeling on the inside. Typical of me to take Bunce’s tragedy and make it about myself.

As terrible as this trip has been so far, my hope is that we can find a way to fix things. That is all I want, is to fix things.

I just hope Simon wants that as well.

I cannot handle any other outcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo…. that’s that I suppose. Hope you guys liked my little dabble back into the world of fanfiction. Please be kind (and constructive, I happily accept constructive criticisms), and have a good day.


End file.
